


To Have Someone Lie to You

by Ameliapll



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Emotional Manipulation, Gen, Mark is a good friend, Protective Rogues, not everything is mentioned, poor Hartley, recovery from emotional manipulation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-22
Updated: 2017-08-22
Packaged: 2018-12-18 13:48:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11875824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ameliapll/pseuds/Ameliapll
Summary: It was just a harmless comment.Mark didn't think Hartley would be so upset.





	To Have Someone Lie to You

**Author's Note:**

> Hartley is an extremely emotionally damaged individual. The events of this story have not healed him. He still has a long way to go to be an emotionally stable being.  
> Just because he sees himself as healthy and okay doesn't mean he is healthy or okay.

"If you could take one person from here to a deserted island, forever, who would you pick?" Lisa asks, raising an eyebrow coolly. The Rogues all turn to her. It's a loaded question, one that could end in chaos.

 

"I'd take Shawna. Sorry Lenny," Lisa begins, smirking. 

 

"Mick," Len sighs, giving in. Mick nods, "Snart. Elder." he adds when Lisa beams radiantly. 

 

"Sammy," Rosa says to no one's surprise. It's even less surprising when the two kiss.

 

"I under _stand_ that you two are the two token heterosexuals," Hartley sighs. "But is it really neccessary to do that in front of the child?"

 

"Shut up, Rathaway," Axel snaps, "I'd pick Roy. I've always wanted to see what an angry bird will do," 

 

"I'm so pleased," Roy deadpans. "Honestly, I'd pick Shawna. She's cooler than all of you."

 

Len splutters at someone taking his pun from him. 

 

"I'd take Lisa," Shawna declares. "Sorry, babe." 

 

"That's okay," Mark retorts, smirking. "Cause Hart's my guy, right?" 

 

He turns to Hartley, expecting a snarky comment, a roll of the eyes. 

 He stares at Mark like he's someone else for a minute before pushing his chair back. It hits the ground with a crash, and he bolts from the room. 

 

Snart turns to Mark, ice gun in hand, snarl on his features. "The fuck did you do, Mardon?" 

 

"I didn't...Wells," Mark realises the bastard behind Hartley's pain in a second and pushes back from the table, ignoring Shawna and Roy's warnings.

\---------------------------------------------------

He was being pathetic. Useless. Dramatic. 

 

A voice from the door-  _Hey, Hart, can I come in?-_  draws his attention and he looks up at Mark who looks guilty. He doesn't want Mark to feel guilty. Mark's a good friend, better than Hartley deserves.

 

His heart pounds irrationally when Mark fills the doorway and he can imagine Mark's hand vibrating too quickly, filling his head with a buzzing noise and ohmygodno stopstopithurts pleaseilldoanythingstop

 

But he leaves the door open, sits down, and Hartley exhales. There is an exit, he can run if he has to. 

 

"So I know it's not my place," Mark begins and his voice is so unlike Wells, deep and gritty to Wells' slimy voice, unspoken promises rolling off the tongue like oil. 

 

"You want me to tell you about Wells?" Hartley guesses, pretending to shrug it off. "Not much to tell. Fired me when I threatened to go viral about the particle accelerator, ruined my scientific career?" 

 

"Hart, that's shit and we both know it. You don't have to tell me, if it hurts you, but can you at least tell me what upsets you so we don't have to worry about it?"

 

Hartley looks at Mark. The weather meta looks back, eyes kind and understanding. So Hartley begins.

 

"He used to call me  _his guy._ That was when I did something right," 

 

He could remember Wells petting his shoulder,  _of course you did it right: you're my guy._

 

"Those were good days. Whenever I did something wrong..." Hartley trails off, remembering the worse days. How Wells glared at him, ice boring into his soul.

 

_useless_

_as usual_

_what did i expect?_

_begging please love me again im still your guy right?_

 

"Hart," Mark says softly, snapping Hartley out of his stupor. He's scooted across the room so he's next to Hartley, but it's not intimidating. It feels stupid, but Hartley's relieved Mark didn't touch him. 

 

"I'm okay, though, Mark. Really," Hartley says genuinely. He  _is._ Sure, he has some trauma, but what Rogue didn't? He reaches out and squeezes Mark's hand, a silent reminder of how Mark is _not_ Wells and will never be Wells. 

 

 

"Come on," Mark says. He doesn't say  _oh Hart I'm so sorry_ or anything like that, which Hartley loves him for. "Let's go downstairs before Mick lets Axel up here. Axel wanted to cheer you up by tying Wells and your parents to explosives," 

 

"Shit." Hartley moans. "My god, is it bad that I'm happy to encourage him to do that?"

 

"Eh, we've done worse," Mark replies with a smirk, grabbing Hartley's arm and hauling him off the ground. 

 

They're still damaged. They may never get over it. 

 

But they still have their lives ahead of them. 

 

 

Maybe that's the best revenge, in the end. 


End file.
